


Lost Your Breath, Space Between Is Blurring Nonetheless

by IfWallsCouldMuke



Series: Muke as FUCK [28]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: (IDK I NEVER), (they're tri-gender), (um), Alternate Universe - Hospital, Epilogue, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, Original Character(s), Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Shower Sex, Smut, Temporary Character Death, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 16:53:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10540602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfWallsCouldMuke/pseuds/IfWallsCouldMuke
Summary: Michael is a young psych doctor at Mental Institution of Sydney.Luke happens to be his patient.





	

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY, so. I got nothing to say. Idk, this is loosely based on real-life events? Read at your own risks. The in-between states are actually my own imagination.

“I swear to fucking God, I will set this place in flames as I—”

Michael presses his urge to rolls his eyes at one of his patients—it’s easy after 5 years of practice—and has the security guard locking the door so Casey can be confined to his solitary room. He doesn’t give the room another glance before walking towards the first floor of the mental ward.

It was 13 years ago when Michael decided to start his university programme in Behavioural and Social Psychology. It was 8 years ago when his roommate—while he was getting his master’s degree—committed, making him determined to save people.

It has been 5 years since he became a residential psychologist for the Mental Institution of Sydney.

It’s cool how the board director didn’t force him to take his eyebrow piercing off—okay, he said he’d just wear a retainer so it wouldn’t be so visible. Or forced him to stop dyeing his hair. (But nothing too crazy)

“… sir?”

Michael blinks and realises his feet dragged him to the small coffee shop/bakery at the reception hall.

“Oh, sorry,” Michael takes his wallet out of his back pocket. “One large mocha with hazelnut shot please.”

 

He walks back to the office inside the first floor ward 1-A and doesn’t even have the chance to take a sip of his coffee when someone knocks on the door. With a frustrated groan, he mutters out a polite ‘come in’.

“Dr. Clifford?” Nurse Ashton comes in with a shy look on his face. “It’s Luke again.”

Michael wants to bang his head against his desk.

“What is it this time?” Michael tries to get the anger out of his tone.

“He managed to stab his roommate in the chest twice before the guards got him,” Ashton states, a frown his voice. “They sedated him and put him in his room.”

“Is he still unconscious?” Michael asks.

“The sedative should keep him down for an hour after the injection,” the nurse replies. “They used more than they should have, given his physiques.”

“Luke Robert Hemmings, 21, 6’ 4”, 185lbs at admission,” Michael takes the papers laying on his desk—he never puts anything away—and reads over the first few patient information. “Also known as ‘the punk doctor’s first patient’.”

“I’m not sure about the last one, sir,” the nurse giggles.

“I got it straight from _your_ mouth, Ashton,” Michael rolls his eyes this time. It’s not like he has to be professional in front of his nurse.

“You’re due to see Luke,” the nurse states the reason why he was in Michael’s office in the first place. “The lunch was about 55 minutes ago, so…”

 

Michael said his hasty ‘good-bye’ to a frowning Ashton before he reaches for the door. He’s been to Luke’s room so many times now. That boy has a temper on him.

“I know you’re there,” the muffled voice states.

Michael pushes the door open and is greeted by hazy blue eyes that lost their original lustre over last five years.  He feels pity for the 21-year-old sometimes—a lot of times—how he should be getting piss-drunk with his uni friends at frat parties. Living his life. That kind of shit.

Instead, the blue-eyed lad is stuck in the mental ward for who knows how long.

“Staring is rude, Dr. Clifford,” the patient singsongs. “Were you checking me out?”

Michael sits on the edge of Luke’s bed—which is unprofessional—and looks down at the blond. He reaches out to brush a strand of unbrushed golden curls away from his forehead.

“They always say you got a temper, but you’re just as docile as a baby bunny around me,” Michael whispers.

“Maybe I always want to be on my best behaviour for you, doctor,” Luke purrs out in a suggestive way.

Michael is used to this. He knows that Luke is gay, and that’s one of the reasons why he was sent to this institution. He knows that Luke was abused by his father for being gay. He knows that Luke was bullied by his schoolmates for being gay.

He knows that Luke cut two vertical lines on his arms and took dozens of sleeping pills exactly 5 years, 2 months, and 8 days ago.

He was the one who was there when Luke woke up from a coma with blue eyes full of sadness and life.

Now those blue eyes look like dead fish’s—murky and lacking vibrancy.

Sometimes, Michael misses looking into Luke’s old blue-topaz eyes.

“You stabbed your roommate with a fork,” Michael is slightly impressed. “Aren’t your guards literally a foot away from you?”

“Dr. Clifford, do you want to know the details of the incidence or why I did it?” Luke purrs out again.

“Sure, why not?”

“See, I was just eating my lunch peacefully when he said I’d just take it from behind from anyone who has a dick,” Luke singsongs, his eyes looking less dead. “That I’d suck my doctors off just to be released. He was right next to me, so I guess I found it justified.”

“He’s been saying that for last four days he’s been here,” Michael states. “He’s in the nearby municipal hospital for the stitches.”

“But he called me a fag,” Luke pouts as if that’d make things better. “That’s a rude word, don’t you think? Considering _you’re_ one of us?”

“I don’t know what you—”

“Rumours fly around, Dr. Clifford,” Luke _tsks_. “Especially when you do it in your own office.”

“What do they say?” Michael arches a brow. “That I fucked Nurse Ashton in my office room? That he was screaming out my name?”

“How unprofessional of you,” Luke giggles. “Couldn’t even wait until you were home.”

“What you hear are just rumours,” Michael reassures his patient. “I can tell you right now that I prefer blue eyes on blonds.”

–

“I told you not to pursue career in psychology,” Calum, Michael’s best friend since Year 9 and roommate since they were 23, scolds him.

“I told you not to pursue career in bioengineering,” Michael replies in the same tone.

“I don’t have to listen to crazy people for a living,” Calum snorts. “I can tell it’s affecting you. Your hairline is receding.”

Michael’s hands immediately go to his hair, only to find they’re just as good as they were when he first got hired as the assistant doctor at Mental Institution of Sydney. He scowls at his friend.

“Damn, five years at that mental shithole and you still can’t differentiate jokes from truths,” Calum cackles.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll make sure I attend the How To Develop Telepathy 101 in the near future,” Michael rolls his eyes at his friend.

 

Michael gets out of his shower when he sees a note from Calum, laid crumpled on his bed.

_Got a date with this blondie who’s a nurse. Hope he’s gonna nurse me, if you know what I mean. xx_

Michael throws up a little.

Years ago, Calum was the first one to come out to, and his friend told him that he’s the same way, that he’s bisexual.

Ever since then, Michael has come to a conclusion that Calum prefers lads, since half the Kiwi’s hook-ups are male spectrum. Which is fine by Michael—he’s kinda the same way.

He hums a Metallica song when his phone rings from a text notification. He glares at his phone for a second before checking it’s from Ashton.

_From Ashy_

_Omggg, I just had the best kiss ever!!!!!!!!! Like!????_

Michael rolls his eyes. It’s frowned upon, but Michael doesn’t care that he’s close friends with his nurse.

_To Ashy_

_If ur being blown rn, I will fire you_

No more texts come, resulting in Michael’s head making up unnecessary images. He shakes those off and goes to bed early.

–

Michael went to his office two full hours before he has to, sipping his cooled down coffee, and he’s currently reading a book. Something about a girl finding her prince.

“Sir?” The tentative voice makes him frown a bit. He isn’t due for a patrol around the ward for another thirty minutes.

“Come on in,” Michael sighs.

“It’s Luke,” Ashton states. “He…”

Michael arches a brow.

“Tried again.”

 

Michael is rushing to the nearby municipal hospital. He’s at least 80km over the speed limit, but he doesn’t care. His heart is racing, trying to escape from his ribcage. Horrible thoughts plague his mind as he reaches for the building’s entrance. He practically body slams into the glass double doors and he’s definitely sprinting off to the operation room.

“Sir, no visitors are allowed,” the security outside the room informs him.

“Dr. Clifford from the Mental Institution of Sydney,” he’s quick to flash the ID at him. “I’m his doctor.”

“Mr. Hemmings isn’t—”

“Fuck your rules, I am his doctor and I will see him if I want to,” Michael seethes.

The guard must have registered what was going on, because he’s unlocking the door next second, with a sympathetic glance at Michael.

 

Michael isn’t surprised that Luke’s father isn’t here, sat on the single stool in the recovery room that’s at the end of the hall from the operation room. He knows that Luke is only here because the surgeon knew he was coming.

 

Hours of studying the unconscious boy later, Michael jolts awake when Luke stirs. He rushes to the bed and sits on the edge like he’s done many times before.

“This is the 11th time in last five years, Luke,” Michael chastises the boy. “Why? Am I not good enough?”

“You’re a great doctor,” Luke smiles weakly, his fingertips traipsing over the jagged line on the inside of his right arm. “But I don’t have reasons to live.”

“I thought talking to you, having you talk to me, would flush those thoughts out of you,” Michael continues. “Thought your demons would leave you alone.”

“We all have demons, Dr. Clifford,” Luke sighs. “Mine happen to be louder than anyone else’s.”

“What was it this time?” Michael asks the question like he’s asking who won the Election.

“I can’t answer that,” Luke looks away for the first time since they met.

–

Two weeks later, Michael finds out the mystery nurse hook-up’s identity.

“The least you could’ve done was to tell me,” Michael teases his now-red faced roommate, who was caught doing _unmentionable things_ with _his fucking nurse_.

“Fuck off and leave me do die,” Calum groans as Ashton giggles, pressing a kiss to the Kiwi’s red neck.

“It’s my job to keep people from dying, what you doing?” Michael waggles his brows. “I thought you were a strict top.”

“Ashton is d—”

“What do you guys want for breakfast?” Michael is quick to change the subject. Both Calum and Ashton look smug.

 

Michael arches a brow when Calum walks downstairs only in his sweatpants when Ashton is fully clothed. He offers them both a plate of waffles and bacon strips.

“Are you guys a thing now?” Michael asks after they’re done eating.

“Kinda,” Ashton looks at Calum lovingly. “It was supposed to be just one date night for me, expecting it be another blind date set up by my _darling_ sister, but I wasn’t even prepared to see how much of a good—”

“Anyways,” Michael shoves a scone in his nurse’s mouth. “I don’t have a problem if you two are fuck buddies, but if you break Calum’s heart, I will eviscerate you.”

 

Michael offers Ashton a ride to the Institution for their evening shift. Ashton doesn’t look remotely flustered that he was caught fucking Michael’s best friend.

“Do you like him a lot, Ash?” Michael asks as he parks the car.

“Yeah…” Ashton blushes. “But… I’m practically aro.”

“I’m a registered psychologist, I think you can tell me without worrying I’ll gossip,” Michael chuckles.

“Year 11. I was with a girl from Year 12,” Ashton sighs. “I didn’t know until I was there, at her house, to ask if she’d go to the fall formal dance with me when I walked in to…”

“It’s from your trauma,” Michael deduces.

“I don’t want another person to reopen the scars,” Ashton reaffirms.

 

First thing Michael notices when he’s inside the 1-A ward is that Luke is sitting at the TV room, looking into the screen as if he was trying to devise a plan of some sorts. The other thing he notices is that there’s no one else in the TV room.

“Luke?” The blond looks in his direction, his eyes the colour of freshly squeezed out azure-coloured paint. “Mind if I sit with you?”

The institution doesn’t really care about how the doctors approach their patients as long as the patient is comfortable with it. Michael usually talks to them whenever he feels necessary.

“How long have you been back here?” Michael asks just when the blond’s head drops to the floor.

“Four hours,” the blond replies, studying his nails. “Am I stuck here forever?”

The question has Michael dumbstruck. The kid has been here for as long as Michael’s been here, and he hasn’t even decided that for him.

“It’s not up to me,” Michael lies.

“Bullshit,” Luke snarls.

 

Michael wants to curse whoever said it’s okay for security guards to be stationed three feet away from the door to the TV room, because before he knows it, Luke is straddling his waist, his hands fisting his silk shirtfront.

“You fucking know what’s going to happen to me,” Luke—apparently—is smart enough not to scream. Michael takes a moment to wonder why the nurses aren’t here yet. The security cameras should be broadcasting this.

Then he remembers Ashton saying they were changing the tapes, and that he was the only person on the shift for most Saturdays.

“You don’t want to do this, Luke,” Michael states in the calmest tone he can muster whilst being held by his collar. “You don’t.”

“I do, and I can,” Luke whispers before inching their faces together.

 _Oh_ , is all Michael can think before their lips meet.

–

Michael wishes he wasn’t assigned to Luke for the first time in 5 years when he wakes up next morning. He wishes he didn’t reciprocate the feelings as he drives to the institution.

He wishes he’s never met the blond, period.

Michael knocks on the door with a heavy sigh, followed by a ‘come in’. He sees that Luke is perched on the edge of his bed.

“Hi,” Luke sounds like all the life has been drained out of his system.

“Hi, Luke,” Michael sits right next to Luke. “Mind telling me what that was all about?”

Luke gives him a blank look.

“You don’t have to—”

“I fucking want you,” Luke snarls out. “Have been since you walked through those dead ass doors at the hospital when I woke up.”

“Luke…”

“You look like a fucking masterpiece sculpture, you know that?” Luke’s statement throws him off-guard. “Someone who deserves to be loved by someone who’s not worthless.”

Michael’s brain registers two things.

One: Luke just declared his love for Michael.

Two: Luke thinks he’s worthless.

“You aren’t worthless, Luke,” Michael starts, only to be interrupted by Luke’s wave of hand.

“My father did a spectacular job at reminding me I was _nothing but a worthless fag_ ,” Luke’s anger scares the doctor. “He’s the reason why I started, you know, cutting myself. A cut for each hit I had to endure.”

Michael does the most unprofessional thing since he started working; he hugs Luke into his arms. The blond doesn’t replicate the gesture. Instead, he’s clutching at the sheets as his entire body shakes.

“Let it all out,” Michael whispers soothingly as Luke sobs quietly. “It’s okay, babe.”

Neither one of them comments on how Michael called Luke ‘babe’ as Luke continues to sob. After what feels like an eternity, Luke pulls away, tears drying on his porcelain skin.

“I hate him,” Luke whimpers. “I wanted to get away from _everything_. Then I found you. Angel in disguise. Always helping me out.”

“I thought you didn’t mean them,” Michael blabbers. “When you’d hit on me.”

“At first, no,” Luke clarifies. “Then I saw you shirtless.”

Michael hopes he isn’t blushing. He knows what Luke is talking about. About three years ago, he finally gathered the guts to enter the charity auction thing. It’s just like any other auctions, except the doctors and nurses are up for bidding. Someone ‘bought’ Michael and made him take his shirt off for the duration of her possession.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“So you’d have kicked me out earlier? Sent me to the _third_ floor?” Luke raises his voice. “I don’t need that.”

“Third floor is for people who are actually insane, babe,” Michael sighs. “They don’t, and can’t, differentiate from what’s real and what isn’t.”

“So, basically all the schizos,” Luke scoffs.

“Not all the schizophrenic people are like that,” Michael can’t help but input his knowledge. “When their brain is damaged enough… that’s when they go to that horrid stage.”

“Are you gonna send me to the second floor then?” Luke asks.

“Why are you so keen on getting sent away?” Michael arches a brow. “And you’ve yet to tell me how you got your hands on extra pills last time you attempted. You aren’t to be given any pain or sleeping meds.”

“I have my ways of smuggling,” Luke sounds final, and Michael gets that Luke wants him out. He presses his lips to Luke’s temple for the briefest time possible, then walks out the door.

–

“I had to do you a favour, you know,” Ashton comments, naked from the waist up, clad only in _Calum_ ’s pair of boxers. “I’m basically volunteering to monitor the cameras every time you’re on shift.”

“You can do more favour and put more clothes on,” Michael continues pouring his coffee.

“Stop kissing Luke then,” Ashton deadpans. “It’s hard to keep doing what I’ve been doing—”

“You rode me in my office on the first day of your new job,” Michael scoffs. “You don’t have any authority to tell me anything.”

“That was a mistake,” Ashton hisses out.

“Same,” Michael looks at the dirty blond’s face with a level look. “And he hasn’t kissed me since that time in the TV room.”

“TV room?”

 _Fucking hell_.

“It’s nothing,” Michael sighs.

“He kissed you.”

“I only kissed him once—on his temple,” Michael knows he’s digging deeper into the hole. “Just to let him know he’s cared about.”

“You know,” Ashton grins brightly. “Just because I’m a _nurse_ doesn’t mean that I know less than you do. I know the psychology of two people in love.”

–

Michael had to put everything he had to not slap Ashton across his face for accusing him of loving Luke. He just stared at the blond for thirty seconds before bolting out of his apartment.

And now he’s been driving for last two hours, just relentlessly searching for _anything_ that can calm him down. He knows he’s hysterical right now, driving non-stop as if this road he’s on has an end to it.

Eventually, he pulls up to a dodgy bar and goes inside.

He almost sucks in a loud breath when he sees the only working bartender there.

“Can I help you?” The blond asks him.

“Just give me some Coke,” Michael tells him, reading the nametag quickly.

_Jack._

“You look like you just saw a ghost,” the bartender—Jack—states. “Do I know you?”

“No, but you look like someone I know,” Michael gulps. “Where am I?”

“Somewhere between Canberra and Sydney,” Jack replies. “You’re a doctor.”

“Either you’re a psychic or you’re very attentive.”

“Neither,” Jack shrugs. “You’re wearing your doctor tag thing.”

Michael looks down to see that he has his ID necklace thing on his neck.

“You work at where my brother was sent to,” Jack continues.

“ _Brother_ ,” Michael repeats. “Funny, Luke never mentioned having a brother.”

“He has two, actually,” Jack picks up a spotless beer glass and starts cleaning it. “Imagine having three sons with an abusive husband, then finally having had enough so she left her house, and everything that reminded her of that said husband.”

“Your mother left you and your brothers,” Michael doesn’t have to be a genius to piece things together. “That’s one of the reasons why Luke…”

“Ben tried to be the legal guardian for both me and Luke the moment he turned 18,” Jack gives Michael a look that says _don’t speak_. “Of course, he was ‘ _too young and inexperienced to take care of two growing teenagers_.’” He places the glass down to retrieve a cheap-looking beer bottle. “A year later, I turned 18 and I tried to get Luke to move in with me. That was the day he attempted.”

“Why haven’t you visited him in last 5 fucking years?” Michael explodes. “I wasn’t expecting his parents, so I was expecting his friends or other relatives to fucking show up. I heard him whimpering for his fucking _mother_ when he was sleeping and having nightmares.”

“He didn’t want us to,” Jack deadpans. He uncaps the bottle and makes a _cheers_ gesture before taking a sip. “He told one of the nurses to notify me and Ben that he wants nothing to do with us.”

 

Three hours later, Michael has Jack in the backseat of his car, glaring at him like he wants to kill him. Or contemplating different ways to kill him.

Probably the latter.

Michael grips Jack by his wrist and drags him to the double doors leading inside the 1-A ward.

“Dr. Clifford, there’s no visitors allowed—oh,” Ashton’s face drops the moment he sees Jack. “Another favour, I suppose.”

“This is 300% unnecessary—hey lil bro,” Jack cracks into the first smile he’s seen on the blond since he met him three hours ago.

“Hi, Jacky,” Luke reciprocates the smile—it’s the happiest Michael has ever seen him. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors.”

“Well, you did tell me and Ben that you wanted nothing to do with us,” Jack rolls his eyes.

“I was sad and angry,” Luke huffs.

“So, you didn’t bother sending us another note saying you weren’t anymore?”

Luke huffs louder.

“I’ll—”

“Stay,” Luke says it with so many emotions mushed together, but Michael can differentiate a few—hope and desperation to name a few.

“Your doctor is hot, aesthetically speaking,” Jack elbows at Luke’s stomach.

“I can hear you both, aesthetically speaking,” Michael reminds the older blond.

“Chill, I’m aro and ace,” Jack ‘reassures’ Michael. “I’m not trying to steal you from my lil bro.”

“You won’t be—”

“I can see the way you look at him, Lukey,” Jack scoffs. “Don’t try to fool me.

Luke plops down and screams into the pillows.

–

“I told my supervisors,” Michael states after Luke greets him. “I told them your progress and they think you can go on a monitored outing.”

“Meaning?”

“They’re gonna find someone to fill-in for me for next 72 hours and have me monitor your behaviours outside the psych ward,” Michael presses a soft kiss to Luke’s scrunching up nose.

“What you’re basically saying is that you get about hundred times the amount a babysitter would be paid for doing the same with me,” Luke scoffs.

“What I’m basically saying is that you get to go outside for 72 hours and live it like any other male would be in their prime,” Michael scoffs back.

“Did you just act unprofessional with me?”

Michael shrugs and throws a shopping bag at Luke.

“I hope the size I picked fits you. There’s a limit to what eye-fucking can do.”

Michael leaves his patient to question the validity in his words as he walks towards the door, not sure whether the blue-eyed male would like the _style_ as well.

 

Ten minutes later, Luke knocks on his door at his office room (he’s learnt to differentiate all his patients’ knocks over the years). Michael sucks in a breath when he first sees the sight of Luke clad in skinny jeans and tight-fitting dress shirt. He hopes his semi isn’t obvious.

“Hi, Dr. Clifford,” Luke has an adorable blush covering his neck. “I, um, these look alright on me.”

“‘Alright’,” Michael tries to sound offended. “I spent over $100 on your outfit, Luke.”

“Cheap taste for a doctor,” Luke teases Michael.

“One small thing,” Michael points out. “I have to stop by at my flat so I can change out of my work uniform.”

“I prefer being wined and dined before the _soixante-neuf_ , doc,” Luke waggles his brows. “But alas, I s’pose I can make an exception for hotter than hell doctors.”

Michael’s brain barely registers that Luke called him ‘hotter than hell’.

“I can see that my roommate will get along just fine with you.”

 

Michael curses when he sees a familiar 1994 Land Rover parked at the visitor’s section of the parking lot. He hopes that the owner of the car is asleep in his roommate’s room so they don’t have to have an interaction.

Of course, just his luck, Ashton and Calum are sucking each other’s face off. After Michael is done praying to every god in existence for his roommate and his boyfriend to be not do exactly that.

Being naked is the bonus he never needed.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Cal,” Michael hisses after covering Luke’s eyes with his hands. “I told you I’m off-clock after 10am. That means you get Ash’s and your horny asses to your room for this kinda shit!”

“I didn’t know you’d bring a company over,” Calum looks unabashed about his nudity. “Is he your new—”

Michael gives his oldest friend _a look_.

“—boyfriend?” Calum grins.

“He’s on his monitored outing,” Michael gives Calum his best _I’m done with you and I’m gonna start looking for a new roommate/best friend_ look. “I came here to get dressed since I hadn’t a clue the board director and my supervisor thought Luke was stable enough.”

“So, _this_ is Luke,” Calum looks like he wants to say something more but Luke finally remembers he can speak.

“Why is your nurse/personal assistant sucking faces with your roommate?”

“It started when I told Ashton that—”

“No one needs to hear that, I can assure and testify you that,” Michael drags Luke to his bedroom.

“I thought I already told you that I prefer to be dined and wined before being sixty-nined?” Luke giggles, his eyes looking more vibrant than the colour they’ve become over the years.

Then they zero onto something Michael can’t identify at first. He’s quick to throw his shirt over the object in lieu of getting changed out of his work uniform. Luke doesn’t question anything when they leave the room, with Michael freshly-changed into his black skinny jeans, a random band tee, black faux-leather jacket, and black spike-end eyebrow piercing jewelry to complete the look.

 

“I knew you were punk-rock,” Luke comments when they arrive at a club that’s a joined business with a small restaurant. “You look hot in your all-black glory, but I bet you’d look hotter without it.”

“It’s not going to take one cheesy pick-up line for you to get in my pants, Luke,” Michael informs with a smirk. “Also, I think it takes a few paperwork to get you released so I don’t have to do anything illegal.”

Luke huffs and opens the double doors leading inside, where a glow-in-dark desk obstructs their path. Michael lets out a small curse. The bouncer wiggle their fingers.

“How much?” Michael nibbles at his lower lip, making the darker skinned feminine-looking person raise their eyebrow. “Look, this was a last-minute decision, I didn’t know we’d need an ID!”

They look like they want to _literally_ kick Michael out for trying to bribe them when Michael holds up his index finger in the global ‘ _gimme a sec_ ’ gesture. They look slightly amused when he digs his phone out to flip through his camera rolls and selects a picture of what looks like an official document.

“Here,” he shoves the phone less than an inch under their eyes. “Luke Robert Hemmings. Born: July 16th 1996.”

“The so-called _official_ documents can be forged, sir,” the bouncer—Michael does a quick job at squinting at the nametag that reads _Alyx_ —states. “Unless—”

“Here,” Michael pulls his registration ID with a heavy sigh.

“Why are you here with your patient?”

“He’s been cooped up at the ward for over 5 years until today. He needs to get a taste of what it’s like to be young and free, even if it’s just for one night,” Michael hisses at the brunette.

“Go ahead. They won’t ID you again since I let you in.”

Michael almost misses the ghost of a smile on their dark, full, red lips.

–

Michael doesn’t know how long it’s been since they got here. He’s been busy avoiding the waves after waves of sweaty bodies trying to grind up against him. He wasn’t here to hook up with a randomer; he was here to observe Luke’s behaviours and make them as obscure as possible so the authority won’t find out he took his patient to a fucking _gay_ club.

He didn’t even know it was a gay club when he brought Luke here. He only knew that this was the closest club from his flat.

He also knows and noticed that Luke didn’t shave, his _barbe de trois jours_ looking even more attractive in the rainbow of dance lights flickering every-fucking-where. Michael makes the mistake of sipping his _regular_ Coke every time he has the urge to pin the blond twink against the nearest wall and kiss him all the coherent thoughts out of his pretty head.

Naturally, he’s sugar high from all the Coke refills he’s had, with a very suspicious looking Luke glancing at him every thirty seconds. Michael tries not to show that he’s noticed, but Luke’s lips twitch up in the way they always do when he’s giggling whilst chatting up with a faux-blond with brown roots and blue fringe. The metaphorical binding that keeps Michael from acting from personal, _selfish_ motives snaps.

“Sorry,” Michael makes sure he doesn’t sound sorry at all as the faux-blond looks at him with a quirked eyebrow. “This one’s taken.”

“He wasn’t with you when he agreed to come home with me,” the other bloke has an American accent.

“It’s hard to lie to a psych major, really,” Michael points out. “I know all the signs of lying, pal.”

“Look—”

Michael cups either side of Luke’s confused face and brings it down so their lips can meet again since the first time they did. It was a short kiss, barely any contact, but Michael out every ounce of possessiveness in his other body gestures.

When Michael pulls away and opens his eyes, he sees that the faux-blond is gone. It’s quickly followed by a quick slap to his chest.

“What?” Michael barely manages to sound _professional_ , just remembering that he’s still on clock. “That bloke wanted to get in your pants.”

“I thought you wanted me to experience the life males in their prime years have,” Luke arches a brow at him. “I think that included having a nice, casual fuck.”

“You’ve never had sexual partners in the past,” Michael states boldly.

Of course, that’s when the loud beats and amplified vocals fade into a background bassline, resulting in everyone in the earshot to hear Michael’s sugar high accusation. He wants to crawl into a hole that’d harbour someone over six feet in height.

“How’d—you can’t—it’s not—ugh!”

Michael ignores the wide-eyed stares from the onlookers as he chases after the blond.

–

Michael was 21 once.

Michael was reckless once.

And Michael sure is in love with the person he’s describing right now.

For someone who has been stuck in a mental ward for more than 5 years, the blond is surprisingly strong. Or maybe Michael isn't resisting at all.

Either way, Michael can feel Luke’s hardened cock pressed to his own, his back against the wall separating his room from Calum’s. Can feel Luke’s laboured breaths when Michael breaks the ice and thrusts hips against Luke's, creating a delectable friction all over their dicks. Can feel his erratic heartbeats echoing in his eardrums when Luke drops to his knees alongside flurry of kisses on his lower abdomen. Can feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of Luke's vibrating throat as he moans around it.

He can't, however, remember the exact moment he came down Luke's throat, practically half his cock shoved down his _fucking patient’s_ digestive system. Can't figure out how they ended up in the middle of his bed. Can't think about anything apart from how tight Luke’s ass feels around his fingers. Can't remember to forget the way Luke’s eyes brighten up to the shade Michael knows he fell in love with so damn fucking time ago for the first time since they first saw each other.

He wants to whisper to the blond boy that he is loved, that he is loved by him, but he fucking can't.

–

Michael wakes up to a mild hangover and a mop of blond curls obscuring his vision. He forgets for a second who he brought home last night, until everything floods back.

 _I slept with my patient,_ Michael deadpans to himself. _Fuck._

His—no, _the_ —sleeping blondie seems to be unaware to the outside world, soft snores leaving him. His nose scrunches up as if having a nightmare.

Michael hesitates about shaking Luke awake, but he hears the sentence that changes his life forever.

“I need you like the moon needs the sun,” Luke mumbles. “I need you to light up my world.”

–

Luke wakes up when Michael exits the sole bathroom. He wasn't expecting his patient to wake up any time soon, freezing in his spot, clad only in a towel that barely covers anything.

“What's wrong, doc?” Luke chirps. “Something… _bothering_ you?”

“Everything's fine,” Michael splutters out. “Can you turn away so I can find my boxers?”

“I saw your dick and choked on it last night,” Luke guffaws. “How is it going to bother you if I saw you naked again?”

“Because I was not myself last night,” Michael pulls up the most stoic face he can muster. “It's been a long time since I had an easy fuck. You're head-over-heels for me.” Michael wishes being cold towards Luke isn't the only way of throwing the blond off. “Willing to get fucked from behind from anyone, to suck me off just to get released.”

He wants to pulls Luke’s trembling body into his arms and kiss those tears away from Luke's dull blue eyes.

“Okay.”

–

Michael drove Luke back to the ward when the blond requests it. Wordlessly, he watched the blond getting changed back the hospital garbs.

That was 4 hours ago and now, Michael feels like the worst person on the planet.  He's drowning in whiskey and vodka. He's drowning in the pain he's in for putting _Luke_ in pain.  He drowning in thoughts of what he can do, of what he has to do, of what he wants to do, al jumbled together in a perfect mess.

He counts up to three 5fl.oz whiskey bottles and four 354mL rum bottles when his phone rings. He frowns. It's two-thirty a.m.

“‘Ello!” Michael giggles and he never fucking giggles. “Dr. Clifford speaking!”

“You're needed at the Sydney Memorial Hospital,” the nurse—Michael knows she's a night shift nurse, and he can't remember her name—urges.

 

He woke his ass-naked best friend up, who wasn't pleased by the way Michael's breath smelt, and got him to throw on a pair of sweatpants before driving him to the hospital.

He's sober when he sees the doctors surrounding an all-too-familiar body. The halo of golden curls framing the bony facial structures as his chest lays still. _Too still._

 _“He knew when we change the tapes at night,”_ the nurse’s words ring through him. _“It takes 5 to 10 minutes and that's all it took for him to…_ ”

The flatlining is deafening, Michael can't hear anything else. He forgets that he has the name tag and ID on him when he walks to the pre-corpse and looms over him. There's blood every-fucking-where, _too much_ for Michael to believe they were from one single person. He ignores the coppery stench of drying blood and kisses every millimetre of the newly-opened jagged lines, one each on each arm, from the wrist-end to the forearm-end. He doesn't stop kissing when he reaches the forearm-end on the second side; instead, he kisses up to the shoulder, to the nape, to the jaw, and around the entire jawline. He kisses both cheeks and nose, both temples, before he finally reaches Luke's lips. In the far back of his mind, his brain remembers that brain can only function for 4 minutes without oxygen delivered to it. His hand slides over to Luke's unbeating heart as the first tear of the night streaks his cheek.

“I'm sorry Luke,” Michael whispers. The room is silent despite the machine beeping. He realises that the surgeons haven't tried to pry him away from Luke. As if they knew all along the real story hidden under Michael poorly-covered love for the blond.

–

Luke doesn't know where he is. He can't see anything, yet he can see the nothingness. He's floating, yet he is anchored.

One thing he knows for sure is that he can't feel a damn thing. He doesn't feel the constant sadness or the relentless anger he had towards himself.

“I'm sorry our first meeting is much sooner than I hoped it would be,” a soft voice sighs behind him. “You weren't supposed to meet your soulmate like that.”

Luke isn't crystal-clear with what the voice meant. He turns around to see a—

 _Fucking angel,_ he stops himself just in time to not say that out loud. Angels probably don't like swear words.

“I'm Kody,” the angel introduces themselves. “Tri-gender, I prefer the they/them pronoun.”

“Well, if that's your way of saying I'm going to heaven with you, I'm surprised that I made the list.”

“This is the in-between realm. Humans started calling it The Bridge,” Kody explains. “You have two options, Luke Hemmings. You know both; they're rather popular as clichés.”

“I choose to let go or pull in,” Luke says bitterly. “I have to find the reason to hold on.”

As if on cue, Luke can hear the flatlining. He can hear the surgeons talking about raising the voltage. He can hear, but he still can't see or feel anything.

The he feels them—the kisses. They start at the start of the vein on his right arm to the end of where the newly-opened jagged line is. Then the kisses start at the same place, only it's his left one. Tears blur his vision even though he can't see anything yet. There's only one pair of lips that feel like that on his skin, only man who gives a damn about him in the entire galaxy. Every kiss Michael presses to his skin, he can feel the broken pieces moulding into a new shape and form.

“Never forget,” Kody whispers when the halo behind her gets brighter and brighter. Luke can now feel warm hand over his silent heart. _“I'm sorry, Luke. I love you.”_

The vast whiteness covers— _no, swallows—_ Luke and he barely hears the words Kody whispers to him.

“ _True love prevails.”_

–

“I love you,” Michael finally admits it to himself, accepts it, in a room full of surgeons. Strangers.

When he kisses Luke's lips again, as a final goodbye, they feel warmer then the last time he kisses them.

He almost jumps off the bed when he feels the heartbeat under his palm.

Michael feels his breath being knocked out of his lungs when Luke flutters his eyes open. He never thought he'd see that colour again. At least, not before Luke was released.

The twin blue topazes sparkle with so much life and love, it scares Michael a tad bit. Scares him that this might be a dream. Scares him with the intensity.

“… too,” Michael realises he tuned his patient out. “You know I love you. Always have. Always will.”

 

Three hours and abuse of Michael's authoritative powers later, Luke is discharged from the hospital and they're in the transfer vehicle together. They sneak kisses here and there until the driver clears his throat.

Michael walks Luke to his single room. He was about to kiss Luke goodnight when the blond shakes his head no.

“Do you know what brought me back?” Luke asks, his blood-stained fingertips kissing Michael's lips. “Your love brought me back.”

“It was the medics,” Michael fidgets with the shirt he's worn to the night out with Luke. He hadn't the chance to get changed since Luke requested to be driven back to the ward.

“Michael,” the young doctor’s heart does the stupid flip-flop when Luke calls him by his first name. “I heard them. How my heart didn't beat for 15 minutes before I was breathing and shit. That's almost four times the maximum amount of time your brain can go without oxygen. It's basically impossible. I met an angel.” His blond beauty puts firmer pressure against his lips. “They told me that true love prevails. I think they meant that your love brought me back.”

“You think my love for you healed you,” Michael pieces things together.

“I want you to make love to me,” Luke continues as if Michael hasn't spoken. “I want you to show me what love looks like—feels like.”

“You literally bled out to your brief death three hours ago,” Michael thinks he needs to sharpen his romance skills. “I don't think your body recovered enough.”

“You aren't my physician, Michael,” Luke pushes Michael onto his back. “And I know how my body feels, far better than you can and will.”

“Do dying-and-coming-back experiences turn you on?” Michael looks up at the blond. “Wish my cock was splitting you wide open?”

“The cameras…” Luke mewls out, pressing his ass against Michael’s dick nonetheless.

“They turn it off from midnight to 5am,” Michael does a quick job at ridding himself of Luke’s hospital garbs and his clothes.

He grabs Luke’s right hand and starts kissing each tip, moving to the palm to the start of the jagged line that’s sewed together to stop the bleeding and make the healing process quicken. He kisses the line again, the path his lips seem to have memorised after the first time doing so. He can hear the small gasp Luke let out, hear the heart racing in his ears. Can feel everything like he has everything in the world. Can see the love in Luke’s blue topaz-coloured eyes when his own jade-greens meet them. They don’t have to say ‘I love you’ when it’s written all over their faces. Michael’s fingertips reach up to touch Luke’s lips, which soon wrap around them to suckle. He presses the index fingertip to Luke’s hole, then pushes the pad in, looking at Luke’s scrunched-up face. By the time the entire finger is inside, Luke’s eyelids are half-open, as if not sure if it’s uncomfortable or pleasurable or both. The blond’s moans tell him that he can add another, so he does exactly that. Two becomes three not so long after, and the sounds Luke lets out are making Michael harder than ever. He crawls up and flips them over so that Luke is on top.

“It’s your first time,” Michael states with a kiss on Luke’s knuckles. “I want you to be in control.”

Luke looks like he wants to protest but Michael pushes Luke’s head down for a possessive, scorching, reassuring kiss, grasping the base of his cock and lining it up at Luke’s entrance. He rubs the head against the quivering rim, pressing kisses up and down Luke’s neck and shoulder area. The blond sinks down on his own accord, his ass flush with Michael’s hips. He feels the tension in the blond’s body so he starts kissing everywhere he can reach. After a while, Luke gives an experiment rock of his hips, then another, before he starts bouncing, his pretty pink lips agape. Michael can already see the face he loves so much already, the one only Luke can show him, and the one only _he_ can make the blond’s face contort in that way. He almost comes undone when Luke lets out a loud gasp, letting Michael believe Luke found his prostate.

“Show’s over,” Michael whispers before rolling them over. Luke looks up at him with wide eyes before Michael slides out and slams back in, only to repeat it over and over again at a faster rate, in that angle which supplies Luke with all the pleasure he needs and wants.

“Michael!” Luke moans out as he comes between their chests, his breaths laboured. Michael follows suit, grunting low.

“You sure that was your first time?” Michael asks, getting hit in the shoulder with a pillow in reply. “You’re amazing, baby.”

“I love you.”

Michael presses their lips together.

“I love you too.”

–

Luke wakes up, expecting to be alone. So, it’s an understatement to say he was surprised when he feels Michael’s stubble tickling his nape.

Then he jolts upright.

“Michael, Mi-chael,” he hisses, trying to wake the doctor up.

“What?” Michael groans.

“The cameras,” Luke hisses again.

“Ashton’s here,” Michael states as if that solves everything. “Besides, can’t be that asshole who ditches the love of his life to wake up alone after their first time.”

Luke freezes.

 _“Besides, can’t be that asshole who ditches the love of his life to wake up alone after their first time_.”

Michael must have realised what he said as well, because his jewel-green eyes are bulging out of his eye sockets.

“Kody said that you're my soulmate,” Luke whispers to himself.

“You refereed to your angel as ‘they’,” Michael looks dumbstruck. “Are they tri-gender?”

–

Luke seems confused by Michael's question.

“Yes…”

“Holy shit,” Michael can’t believe that. “Afterlife exists…”

“I’m confused here?”

“Kody was my roommate when I was getting my master’s degree,” Michael explains. “They told me the minute they saw me that they’d have my balls if I mispronounce them.”

“They died, how?” Luke asks tentatively.

“Overdose.”

“Did you love them?” Luke’s voice cracks.

“As a friend would; as a roommate would,” Michael croaks out. “That doesn’t matter. I believe we’re soulmates.”

 

It’s breakfast hour when Ashton tells him they need to talk. Michael knew this was coming, so he accepts it without much resistance.

“Calum thinks you should tell Luke,” however isn’t what Michael expected from the dirty blond. “He told me about your… choice.”

“I don’t know—”

“Your lifestyle, Dr. Clifford,” Ashton cuts him off. “He told me, and I saw the evidence myself.”

“I’m not inducting him into my lifestyle,” Michael glares at his nurse. “I don’t have to.”

“How long are you going to keep it from him?” Ashton’s tall frame is leant against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. “How much longer before you accidentally expose yourself?”

Michael's mind flits to the time Luke was in his room and almost saw the toy. He dismisses it and Ashton.

 

Michael receives knowing looks from the on-clock nurses when he announces he's going to check up on Luke. He wonders briefly if it's been obvious for everyone but him.

“Morning,” Luke hums, and God, Michael loves seeing the vibrant blue colour on Luke's eyes again. “I think they know.”

“Know what?”

“How great my boyfriend is at fucking me hard,” Luke purrs out. “Rude people were staring at me when I limped into the dining room. They know I was fucked hard.”

“Do they know your boyfriend intends on making that a regular occurrence?” Michael sits right next to Luke. Luke smiles when their fingers thread perfectly together. “Take you out on dates and kiss you goodnight?”

“I think I need to work on being quiet before anything else happens,” Luke giggles in that adorable way Michael loves about him. “Someone told me I'm _very_ loud.”

“You were loud for _me_ , so that doesn't matter,” Michael adds possessively. “Besides your sore ass, how's everything?”

“I heard the nurses saying the board director is too kind,” Luke shrugs. “Letting a doctor stay with a patient when they're both in love with each other.”

–

It's lunch time when the board director visits Michael. He was expecting it, so he just sighs and lets the director take a seat.

“It's unprofessional of you, Dr. Clifford,” he begins. “Mr. Hemmings was your first patient. We assigned you with him so you get a taste of what it's like to—”

“If you're going to fire me, just do it now,” Michael cuts him off.

“I'm not firing you,” the board director waves his hand dismissively. “I'm here to get your approval to discharge Mr. Hemmings.”

“He just attempted not even 24 hours ago,” Michael says intelligently. “He isn't stable.”

“He was stable enough not to try again in your absence,” the older man looks like he knows more than he's letting the doctor on. “We all know that's the case.”

“We don't choose who we fall in love with,” Michael states.

“Your love stabilises him,” the director continues as if Michael hasn't spoken. “Which is why we already have all the papers filled out, minus your signature and his for him to be discharged.”

–

Luke kissed him in front of the nurses when Michael signed off for the day. The blond sang along the old Fall Out Boy songs as it played on their way to Michael's shared flat with Calum.

Now, Luke is wincing underneath Michael's body as the older is applying antibacterial cream to the stitched-up jagged lines.

“I always found it romantic when I saw those scenes on telly where the protag’s lover takes care of their wounds,” Luke whines out, complaining for the thirteenth time.

“Oh, hush,” Michael gives the wound a particularly harsh prod.

“I'm your patient!” Luke hisses out.

“You used to be my patient,” Michael corrects his boyfriend. “Now, get your shirt back on.”

“Is it a doctor-patient roleplay if we do that in the future?” Luke giggles.

Michael stiffens.

“Oh, c’mon, I was kidding.”

–

Michael comes home from work a bit after 2am in the morning when he sees the bedroom lights still turned on. He assumes that Luke forgot to turn it off or something, but that thought evaporates when he opens the door.

Luke is sat on the bed, with a dildo in his hand.

“Luke, I can—”

“You have a _used_ sex toy in your room,” Luke sounds like he’s been crying for hours. “Who else have you been seeing?”

“No one,” Michael replies simply. “It’s the one I probably forgot to throw out after the last one.”

“‘Last one’,” Luke repeats emotionlessly. “How many people did you fuck?”

“Of all time?”

“Since you started having feelings for me.”

“Thirteen,” Michael states. “Eight in the first month, two in the period between that and three years since, and the other three between the fourth year and the last time you attempted.”

Michael knows he can’t lie to liar, or forgets when and who he fucked.

“Why?” Michael can’t read the emotion in Luke’s words.

“Because I didn’t know what _you_ wanted, when I knew for the longest damn time what I wanted. I was just good at denying that to myself. Because I didn’t know you were ready,” Michael answers honestly.

“You knew I wanted you,” Luke’s topaz-blue eyes are glistening with tears. “I know you knew. I could tell by the way you looked at me. Like you pitied me.”

“I pitied you because I didn’t know what I felt for you at the time,” Michael sighs. “I do now.”

–

“And he slapped you across your face.”

“And he slapped me across my face, yes,” Michael glares at his best friend. “He’s gone now.”

“Gone, how?” Ashton looks like he wants to murder Michael.

“He called Jack and went to his house.”

 

Two hours later, Michael was forced out of his flat and into some club he’d never visit. Calum and Ashton are sucking faces in the dimly-lit corner, the neon light barely laminating their bodies.

He’s too sober to be dancing, and his mind is stuck on replay, the scene where Luke is so hurt, it’s tangible. So vulnerable, Michael wants to track Jack down and encompass the boy into his arms.

So small, nothing will change the fact that Michael is a monster for having done _everything_ since the first time he saw Luke in that dimly-lit hospital recovery room all those years ago. Yeah, he was the idiot who didn’t put the toy away, but he didn’t know he would be bringing Luke home either.

A blondie with the wrong shade of blond with wrong shade of blue eyes drags him to the washrooms. He tries to get it up by thinking about Luke’s ass instead of the pair of boobs smooshed against his chest but nothing’s working.

“Of course, I had to pick a fag,” the girl spits out heinously.

Michael snaps.

He wraps his fingers around the girl’s neck until she’s making choking noises.

“Last time I checked, I’m a human being, a bit of a fuck-up, but a human being, not some stick full of cancer,” Michael states calmly. “I advise you choose your words wisely next time.”

 

Another two hours later, Michael is drowning in Coke and rum. Or maybe it’s Pepsi and rum, he hasn’t a care. He’s 100% sure Calum forgot about him and drove back to their flat to ride Ashton’s face without picking him up first.

“You look lost,” a voice Michael wasn’t expecting reminds him.

“What are you doing here?” He wasn’t expecting any company, period.

“It’s a club, I think anyone can be here without much of a reason,” the stranger chuckles. He’s dressed in a pair of grey jeans and dark blue V-neck shirt. “I know that look.”

“What look?” Michael is too drunk for this shit.

“You royally fucked up, and now you haven’t a clue how to mend the broken pieces,” the stranger continues. “The best option is to talk to your lover.”

 

Two more hours go by, and Michael is at the doorsteps of Jack’s house. It’s illegal, but he threatened Ashton into spilling.

He rings the bell.

–

Luke was in middle of crying his eyeballs out for the, well, he doesn’t know how long he’s been crying. It’s hard to not cry when the only person you ever loved tells you that he fucked lots of other people whilst loving you.

A tentative knock resonates in the guest room he’s staying, making him growl.

“Go away, Jack,” Luke hisses at the door. “It’s not meal time.”

The knocker comes in regardless, dressed in all-black, drunken glory.

“Michael?” Luke isn’t sure how his former psychologist is even here. “How…?”

“Ashton knew Jack’s address; he told me,” Michael giggles. “You look so pretty when you cry.”

“I’ve been crying because of you, asshole,” Luke sniffles. “Go the fuck away.”

“I could fuck you instead,” Michael takes a seat next to Luke on the bed. “Fuck the sadness away.”

“You took away the only part of me that was still innocent like I’m nothing to you,” Luke hisses. “You’ve been fucking other people.”

“We weren’t exclusive,” Michael states. “But I did something wrong by trying to ignore what I felt for you—what I feel for you.”

“You broke my heart more than I can care to count,” Luke whispers, pulling Michael on top of him. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” Michael looks confused.

“So, fucking fuck the sadness out of me,” Luke orders. “Fuck me until I can’t think about anything apart from you filling me up with your love.”

“I don’t—”

“I said,” Luke snarls, practically ripping Michael’s black skinny jeans off, “to fuck me.”

Something snaps in Michael’s eyes. Before Luke knows it, there’s a hand wrapped around his neck, and it’s not in the loose way so it’s playful. He claws at the fingers around his throat as Michael slides down the only barrier between their bodies—his boxers. Michael keeps his shirt on as he reaches for the lube on the bedside table and coats his fingers with the gel-like substance. Luke lets out a small mewl when two fingers enter him at once, then becoming three. He’s not liking how fast this is going, but his body is. He tries to distract the dull pain by staring at Michael’s hard-on, which isn’t helpful. He thinks his got harder from looking at the monstrosity.

“Better be ready,” is all Michael purrs out before pushing his erection inside Luke. Luke lets out a helpless moan, the pressure around his throat forgotten. He’s enjoying this, he realises, the way his head rattling the headboard into the wall and the way Michael fucking him hard. Soon, Michael’s head is dipping down to claim his lips. Luke answers with an enthusiastic exclamation mark, his arms wound around Michael’s neck. Michael uses his free hand to bring Luke to his climax, following soon after.

“You’re still loud,” Michael comments, pulling out.

Luke answers with a tired moan.

–

Michael tried to come up with a million excuses to tell Jack for sleeping with his baby brother whilst drunk. It didn’t matter it was consensual, he was still drunk and lacking good judgement. Since when was having sex with an emotional, suicidal, ex-mental institution patient a good idea, _especially_ when he was the assigned doctor?

“You two were very loud,” is all Michael gets from Jack when he fails at sneaking down for some coffee for Luke and himself. “I didn’t need to know what my baby brother sounds like when he’s being fucked, but I guess I can’t have everything I want.”

“Is that your way of giving us your blessing in our relationship?” is the stupid thing that comes out of Michael’s mouth.

“Ask that from Ben, he’s the oldest,” Jack jokes, pouring some coffee for everyone. “He has yet to see you two.”

“I’m older than you,” Michael states. “And Ben, for that matter.”

“The maximum age you can be older than my baby brother is 15,” Jack sips his coffee. “Even if you surpass that age, you treat my brother well-ish. He can’t be coddled by the Institution forever, or never experience heartbreak. You gave him the chances to experience what everyone else does. Yeah, he cried over what you stupidly did, but no one’s perfect; we all make mistakes. What we can do, therefore, is to move on from our mistakes and build our happily ever after.”

“What are you saying, Jack?” Michael knows; he just wants the younger man to say it himself.

“Thank you,” Jack states. “Thank you for saving my brother.”

“I'm the reason he attempted,” Michael states.

“I know,” Jack replies. “But you're the reason why he's still alive.”

–

Luke is sat upright on the bed by the time Michael returns. His hair is messed up in a cute, post-coital way. There's a slight blush tainting the blond’s cheeks.

“Good morning, baby,” Michael offers the coffee mug. “Just the way you like it.”

“How do you know I have my morning coffee with three teaspoons of brown sugar?” Luke accepts the mug nonetheless.

“I was there when you asked the nurses,” Michael giggles. “Ashton mumbled, ‘fuck, this isn't a fancy hotel.’”

“And you said, ‘no swearing around the patients,’” Luke giggles. “He got the brown sugar next day anyways.”

“That was the day I knew you were the cutest person I met,” Michael muses; Luke sips his coffee.

“Are you sure? You did fuck 13 other people,” Luke huffs out.

“You're fucking gorgeous,” Michael presses his lips to Luke's. “Unlike anyone else I've been with.”

Luke giggles again, kissing Michael back.

If this isn't heaven, Michael doesn't know what else is.

–

Michael goes back to work, greeted by a smirking Ashton. It’s like the nurse knew all along. He wants to slap that smirk off the nurse.

“You have a new patient,” Ashton doesn’t look all that happy whilst handing the papers over. “She attempted three weeks ago.”

“I really, _really_ wanna know why I only get people who attempted,” Michael comments mostly to himself as he accepts the papers.

“Maybe because your roommate committed all those years ago?” Ashton takes a seat next to him. “It’s not a big secret, Dr. Clifford, especially to those who have access to your files.”

“Yeah, my roommate from uni committed when I was 22, but that doesn’t mean I know the exact mindset of those who did,” Michael frowns.

“No, you don’t,” Ashton looks sympathetic. “But you know the exact mindset of those who want to help.”

The papers Michael finds as he tidies the new ones is those of Luke’s.

–

“I love you,” Michael reminds Luke as they take a bath together. “I love you so much.”

“Tell me more about your dominant/submissive relationships,” Luke giggles, his foamy fingers caressing the base of Michael’s curling hair.

“Basically, I take care of a submissive,” Michael presses a fond kiss to Luke’s forehead. “There are rules that I set up for them, and they follow those rules, or get punished.”

“Are there a lot of rules?”

“I only have a couple,” Michael shakes his head. “I’m into the idea of controlling someone and taking care of them, not the whole aspects of owning them. You know what I mean?”

“Kind of…” Luke presses a kiss to Michael’s jaw. “I thought you were going to fuck me.”

“Are you asking to be fucked?” Michael arches a brow.

“I’m begging.”

Michael looks down at Luke fondly. He didn’t know Luke had such high sex drive. Then again, it could be due to pining him for so long. Who knows what Luke has been dreaming about.

“Are you now, princess?” Luke perks up at the nickname. “Are you begging for my cock to fill you up, my hands and lips to mark you up?”

“Please, Michael…”

 

Twenty minutes of fingering Luke—and the blond whimpering like crazy—later, Michael has the tub drained and has Luke’s ankles locked behind his back. He lets out a low grunt as he enters his boyfriend, the latter moaning as well. It’s almost suffocating how tight Luke can be after so many minutes of prepping, and for that Michael can just come immaturely like he was 15 again. He thrusts a couple of times when the pressure dies a bit, and when Luke nods, he starts a relentless pace. The blond cries out, rocking back for more.

Michael thinks he died and went to heaven when Luke comes undone without being touched on his dick, milking out his own orgasm.

 

He’s in a happy mood when Calum barges into his room, half-naked, yelling at him about how he used up all the hot water and ruined his plans with Ashton. Ashton, on the other hand, looks less annoyed, and guides Calum back to their bedroom.

“Married couples are so weird,” Luke giggles, pressing a kiss to Michael’s bare chest.

“Calum and Ash aren’t married,” Michael laughs. “They’ve known each other for maybe two months.”

“Refreshing,” Luke comments.

Luke whines when Michael massages his ass cheeks. Michael just chuckles and keeps massaging the reddened skin, pressing kisses to Luke’s neck and shoulders. Eventually, Luke gives in and lets out a content sigh.

“I’ll be your first and last lover, Luke Robert Hemmings,” Michael promises when he knows for sure Luke is half-asleep.

–

Michael wakes up to the feeling of something hairy tickling him under the nose. He lets out a short whine since he knew he doesn’t have work today. He realises it was Luke’s hair that woke him up. Somehow, during their slumber, Luke rolled on top of him.

Michael smiles and presses a fond kiss to Luke’s forehead. Luke scrunches his nose up like a cute little kitten.

“It’s time you woke up and went to therapy,” Michael reminds Luke.

“You’re my therapist,” Luke reminds back.

“Exactly,” Michael grins and rolls out of bed, making Luke fall out of bed.

“Was that necessary?” Luke whines out. “I hurt my bum.”

“I can kiss it better, baby.”

Luke looks at him with dismay when Michael actually kneels down and kisses his bum area. The blond giggles like crazy.

“So, what are we doing today?” Luke asks.

“You,” Michael smirks, only to get a slap on his chest.

“Like you want to do me when I’m still recovering,” Luke lets out a cute _heh_ sound. “You love my health too much to hurt me.”

“Really?” Michael nips at Luke’s earlobe. “You were telling me to be as rough as possible last time we made love.”

 

~

 

**(mini Cashton date scene)**

 

“I didn’t know nurses got paid well,” Calum teases his boyfriend of 6 weeks as they’re led inside a French restaurant. “This is probably a 3-star.”

“Shut up,” Ashton is beet-red. “It’s just a fancy restaurant.”

“Mhm,” Calum pats the back of Ashton’s hand.

 

Twenty minutes later, Ashton’s red from cheekbones and down. He’s a giggling mess. And talking about their _private_ life.

“So, do you remember that one time I—”

“Bill please!”

Calum drags the younger lad to the cab, regretting the decision to have some red wine. The giggly blond is drawing shapes on Calum’s thigh, and he’s 100% sure that Ashton is drawing how his ass looks like from behind.

“Sir?” The driver calls out. “We’re here.”

Calum is quick to throw a 100-dollar note even though the ride was short. Calum fishes out the spare key under the potted plant and opens the door. As soon as they’re inside, Ashton attacks his neck with kisses.

“Ash, no,” Calum is quick to deny him. “You’re drunk.”

“We were both drunk when I first fucked you,” Ashton purrs out.

“Yeah, and that was the best mistake I ever made,” Calum smiles wryly. “But now? You’re the only drunk one here. I don’t want you to think I used you.”

“Please, I want to fuck you against this wall until you’re crying out loud. Beggin’ for me to let you come,” Ashton pouts.

So, Calum complies.

“Fuck me hard,” Calum whispers into Ashton’s ear once they’re both naked. Calum has a preference of being fucked dry and unprepped, and Ashton is more than whipped to let Calum decide everything for them. He lets out a pain of pleasurable burn inside him as Ashton stretches him out. He moans loudly when Ashton finds his prostate so easily.

He knows he’s definitely in love with the boy with curly honey-coloured hair and deep hazel eyes when they exchange their ‘I love you’ as they come.

~

Michael wakes up to a cold bed. He frowns, then his ears start working and hears the shower. Smiling, he shucks the boxers he wore to bed, (‘no, I will not sleep naked with you if that means my ass will be in touch with your night wood!’ ‘ _Night wood_ , really?’) and joins Luke in the shower.

“You scared me!” Luke jumps in the shower, his hand protectively covering his dick.

“Only I would be the one joining you in the shower,” Michael scoffs. “Calum and Ashton went at it all night. Shouldn't be awake at this hour.”

“I am thoroughly impressed and worried how well you know your nurse,” Luke nips at his lower lip. “Well, wanna wash my back?”

Michael lowers his hand to Luke's small on his back and rubs circles there. The blond lets out a corresponding moan, the sound going straight to attribute to Michael's morning wood. He lets out a low grunt, parting Luke's ass cheeks. His boyfriend lets out a matching moan.

“Can I?” Michael asks as he circles the blond’s rim.

“Please…” He can see the blond is hard as well.

Chuckling, Michael kisses his boyfriend’s cheekbone area before he pushes his wet finger in. He groans at how tight Luke's walls feel around him, how right they are for him. He can't help but fuck Luke with his fingers—three of them without much warning—and have the blond a panting, whimpering, writhing mess. He knows he can just have his boyfriend come like this, but he prefers having those sinful walls clench tightly around his cock. So, he grabs the lube at the stand inside the shower stalls and slicks himself up more before sliding inside. Luke keens at that, which Michael adores. He grips onto Luke’s hips and slams into his prostate, rewarded by beautiful ‘ah’s and ‘uh, uh, uh’s. Soon, they turn into a mash of ‘ _harder, daddy, please!_ ’ and _‘fuck, ther_ e!’ Michael is more than happy to oblige and make Luke come untouched. He soon follows suit, with a mantra of Luke's name.

“You never told me if you're clean or not,” Luke giggles against Michael's lips.

“If I wasn't, I'd be wearing those horrid things,” Michael nuzzles their noses together in an Inuit kiss.

–

Michael wakes up to the feeling of someone's hand on his thigh. He chuckles and turns around to kiss his sleeping blondie awake.

“Nuh…” Luke is quick to whine. “Want five more minutes…”

“If you wake up now, I’ll rim you,” Michael offers.

 

Five minutes later, Luke is riding Michael’s face. Michael stretches his tongue out the most he can, moaning at the remnants of cherry-flavoured lube from this morning in the shower. He massages Luke’s prostate with the tip of his tongue, making the blond cry out. Luke chants Michael’s name ( _daddy_ ) before he comes from a single stroke on his slit.

“You’re all mine,” Michael growls possessively.

 

Calum looks aghast when he sees Michael. He almost forgot that there are love bites littering his neck and torso.

“Well, you two definitely are freaky,” Calum clears his throat.

“You call Ashton ‘daddy’,” Michael deadpans, hiding a blushing Luke behind him. “You can't find fault with my lifestyle.”

“It's a daddy kink,” Calum huffs. “And we don't, like, wear pet ears and shit.”

“We haven't agreed on anything yet,” Michael answers for both of them. “It's all from what Luke wants to try. I'm not going to get into a dominant-submissive exclusive relationship with Luke unless he's sure.”

 

Michael kisses Luke's cheeks after lunch. The blond looks like he's deep in thought.

“Baby?” Michael kisses Luke's button nose this time. “What's wrong?”

“You're 32,” he finally states. “Calum is 31, and Ashton is 30. I'm only 21…”

“You're worried about your inexperience,” Michael can read the train of thoughts. “It's okay, Luke. Dominant/submissive is something we learn together, not something I whip up by myself.”

“But it's sexual,” Luke sighs. “I only had sex with you, I don't know—”

“Exactly,” Michael deadpans. “You don't know how to please anyone but me. I want to be your one and only.”

“You’ve had sex with other people even after we've met,” Luke states.

“It's… I didn’t know I'd see you outside the hospital environments,” Michael sighs. “But I will commit to you and only you for rest of my life.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

–

Luke was discharged over a year ago.

Luke started getting bettering over a year ago.

Luke stopped telling Michael that he was having bad thoughts and meant it a year ago.

Luke and Michael went to their first official date ten months ago.

Luke and Michael adopted a kitten together nine months ago.

Luke and Michael moved into an apartment together seven months ago.

Luke and Michael signed up for a local BDSM club four months ago.

Michael got Luke his first bondage collar three months ago.

Michael wrote the hospital a recommendation letter for Luke to start volunteering at the mental ward a month ago.

 _Oh my fucking God, I shouldn't be this nervous,_ Michael tells himself as he waits at the Blaxton Park, dressed in all-black attire.

“No, that bastard!” he can hear Calum from the distance. “This should be—oh, right there. Wrong side.”

“Idiot,” Ashton shakes his head.

“I'm blindfolded,” Luke reminds his friends, sounding confused.

Michael walks up to Luke and rips the fabric off.

“Michael?” Luke seems concerned. “Um…”

Michael gets down on one knee. “I was a freshly graduated psych doctor when I first met you. My certificate was still drying its ink in my office when the board director assigned you to me. I had to drive to the municipal hospital to meet you, ya know. Gas is expensive. Anyways, when I first saw your eyes, I fell in love. They were the prettiest shade of blue I've ever seen. They faded into dull grey when you spent some time at the psych ward. I thought I'd never see those blue topazes again. Then came the day you… attempted again. I was there. I brought you back to life with our love. You said it yourself. Our love pulled you back. Today marks our fifteen months together. Fifteen months since I officially asked you to be my boyfriend. So, today, I ask you something different. Something more committing. Lucas Robert Hemmings, will you marry me?”

Luke bursts into tears before mouthing “yes!” and Michael pushes the ring onto Luke's finger.

–

_Wedding night_

“I didn't know you were serious about this,” Luke has his hand on his hip, his long legs shaven and clad in white wedding lace-top thigh-high tights. Michael just basks in the sight of his husband in white garter lingerie.

“Well, Mr. Clifford,” Michael moans at the sight. “I _do_ have feminisation kink.”

“Doesn't mean I have to— _bad daddy_ ,” Luke whines out when Michael rips the panties off his ass. “Those were assless!”

“Well, I don't care,” Michael growls as he situates Luke’s hole _right_ above his tip. Both of them are too hard and drunk on love to care. Luke sinks down and starts moving up and down, both men moaning as they draw near their high. Luke comes first, paining their bellies white. Michael moans low as he releases his load deep inside Luke.

“I love you,” Michael spoons behind Luke, their hands intertwined, Michael’s thumb brushing their wedding and engagement bands.

“I love you too,” Luke grins, their promise bands hanging off their necks in form of chains.

–

_20 years later_

“Calum is mad that we had sex in their guest bedroom,” Luke giggles at Michael's words. “Apparently, Hunter’s room is right next to it.”

“Lex isn't mad, right?”

Michael and Luke adopted a girl together three years into their marriage. It was weird, since Luke’s ass had been freshly fucked and he wasn't in the mood to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

“Our daughters were busy having their own fun,” Ashton's hair is, well, sex-messy, when he shows his ass. Michael can tell the Irwin-Hood couple still had after-lunch sex.  Calum glares at the staircase. “Right, Hunter?”

Hunter looks guilty when she tries to sneak the apples upstairs. She's only clad in black/white/blue plaid, white tank top, and black boxers.

“Er…” Hunter drops one of the apples. “Sure?”

“Lesbian sex is more vocal than gay, I tell you,” Calum seems to be on the roll with embarrassing his daughter. “I shouldn’t have taken you to the softball lessons.”

“I wanna disown our parents,” Lex, Michael and Luke’s daughter, sneaks up behind Hunter. “Please? We’re leaving for uni soon anyways.”

“Do what you want,” Michael shrugs. “But don’t forget to disinfect your hands before the love sessions!”

Luke giggles when a cushion is thrown at Michael.


End file.
